


If I Were...

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [72]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23718091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: When the list went up of people who were taking part in the Christmas entertainment, and the students discovered that one of the slots was filled by "A.Z. Fell and co." there was another burst of speculation
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [72]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 48
Kudos: 1003
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	If I Were...

When the list went up of people who were taking part in the Christmas entertainment, and the students discovered that one of the slots was filled by "A.Z. Fell and co." there was another burst of speculation. Part of that was who the "and co." was and part of it was wondering what sort of perfomance a Literature professor might give. Some hoped for dramatised reading of the sort Dickens used to give on tours, or possibly some sort of poetry slam, but a large number (all those for whom Dr Fell had 'pulled' a coin from their ear) suspected rather glumly that it was likely to be a magic show. And that it would be bad enough to be bad, but unfortunately not so bad that it crossed the line into being hilariously bad, which would have made it actually passably entertaining rather than inspiring second hand embarrassment.

And possibly first hand upset for poor, sweet, Dr Fell, when the booing started. He did, they knew, love doing magic very much. It was a shame he was so awful at it.

The list was, at least, public knowledge, which meant that it was safe to ask Dr Fell about. Or safer than his love life anyway, rumours of the triangles involved with that were still circulating quietly. However, the brave souls who did ask Dr Fell about the list received only a beaming smile of delight and a cheerful reassurance that everything would be fine and dandy, rehearsals were going tickety boo, and the result was tip top. More than that he wouldn't say, any more than he would reveal who he was doing it with.

A handful of the older and wiser students considered that information, gathered their courage, and went to Dr Crowley instead. They found him humming absently to himself as he worked in the greenhouse, though when the students arrived, he stopped, turned on the bench he was sat on and raised his eyebrows. "This is about the show, I take it?" he said, after giving them all a swift, raking, glance up and down.

The oldest, a grad student of his, nodded. "We just - we don't want him to be hurt when people laugh at his magic..."

"And what do you expect me to do about that? If you thought you could get him to change his mind, you'd be talking to him, I'm sure."

"Yeah... He won't even tell us if it is a magic show or not." The students variously looked down, or away, or stared at their shoes.

Dr Crowley sighed, picking dirt out from under his nails. "I haven't managed to get him to drop doing magic completely. But from the rehearsals we've managed, it probably isn't going to embarrass any of you unless you find mushy stuff in general embarrassing. And don't tell him I told you so, he wants to make the details a surprise - that's his magician instincts showing."

The students nodded slowly, and promised to keep it quiet. "So, you're the 'and co.'?" one asked.

Dr Crowley gave the kid in question a long stare, though not a glare. "I'm not going to answer that one. But I should consider myself exceedingly lucky if I were."

They took that in, absorbed it and gave him hesitant smiles and good luck wishes before they scarpered away.

Crowley watched them go, shaking his head. Rumours were better entertainment than any magic show, and while he had managed to get Aziraphale to modify it somewhat by leaning on his own needs. ("Glamorous assistants do a lot of standing around, angel," he'd pointed out, only half apologetically, "and you know what standing around does to me.")

Even Aziraphale had had to concede that point, and they'd worked together to come up with something less - standy - instead. The downside of the result, Crowley considered, was the way it left him with a certain song very firmly ear worming its way through his head after every rehearsal.


End file.
